Where have you been, Kotter?

I don't know that anyone I know is checking my blog anymore. I haven't written anything for it in months. I have my reasons. I haven't had much happen. I haven't been on any exciting trecks throught the wastelands of the arctic. Berry Picking season is upon us here in the arctic but I don't care, I don't want to go traipsing through the moss lately. The weather has been rainy and foggy for most of this "summer" and I don't suppose I have been as productive at anything I had wanted to be.

Why? Fate. After my father passed away in June it knocked some of the optimism out of me that I had that month. A combination of that and loss of some of my admiration for the local culture. I'm gaining some of the same jaded view of an opportunist. Which is ironic because I'm still waiting on canadian beauroracy. I'm following the rules so that means I can't lift a finger for employment until I have a work permit. I refuse to join the ranks of those who "get away with" working for cash that hop borders and ignore the sovereignty of the nations they hijack. I have too much to loose, and my integrity is something I'm responsible for. You may not have to live with me, but I do have to live with myself.

So after I traveled thousands of miles in June to be there to watch my father be intered in the dust he came from, I began to feel the dull ache of loss that I hadn't felt in so long. I realized that during so much of my life my father had been so adamant that if I loved something that I should pursue it. I have done that several times in my life already. I have worn my heart on my sleeve and chased love and dreams of love half way around the world. I have gambled successfully that the woman I married loved me as much as she told me so soon after meeting her. My heart told me I was right, it had before and was telling me again so I went. So often I have just "gone" when my heart said go.

So I did it again and have been unemployed for the better part of a year already. The loss of my father has stirred an effort on my part to pursue dreams again. In the last month I've written the better part of a novel. It has flowed so easily that it has felt natural. For the first time in my life I'm writing about things that I would want to read. I would be so flip as to claim its great literature but I think it's entertaining. I want to finish my rough draft before a work permit comes in the mail and I no longer have the excuse to write all day. I've felt more honor in pursuing my dreams to honor my father. I don't want the day to come that I just make excuses for not having time or enough passion to have done something with the creative fires that at times course through me.

My heart is telling me to pursue. In an effort to honor my father instead of live opposite of him, I think I will push with this.

That's all for now you limited few who read what I post.